Safe Hands
by Nette
Summary: Third and last chapter: Carter and Abby meet for the first time – under different circumstances. - Carby ; )
1. Chapter

**Rating**: PG – 13

**Spoilers**: No spoilers.

**Summary**: Carter and Abby meet for the first time – under different circumstances.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything … ; )

**Feedback**: Sure, I'd love to know what you think! nette_mails@yahoo.de or use the review button. ; )

**Author's notes**: This fic is AU – but give it a chance. ; ) It takes place around S6. It's about Carter and Abby meeting for the first time. But most things are different from real S6 – which I didn't see yet anyway. ; )

I'm not sure about this – I think I'm in need of protective Carter or something. ; ) Please let me know what you think. : ) There's two parts more to this.

And thank you Jo for beta reading! ::hugs:: "Safe Hands" 

"_Are you okay, Abby?" she asks me like she already did several times since she called me about fifteen minutes ago._

"Yes Mom, everything is okay," I lie like I already did several times, biting my bottom lip.

It sounds like she's on her meds, though and I'm actually glad she called. I was worried about her but now I know at least that she's fine. But I really don't want to talk about the subject she'll surely come up with soon. And I am right.

"_Is he home yet? How is he doing?"_

"He's fine and no, he's not home yet. But I'm sure he'll be here soon. He has to work late," I lie again and I'm really surprised about how good I've become at that telling lies thing. I almost believe them myself.

Though it's hard to lie to my mother. But I don't want anyone to know.

"_You don't sound happy, Abby. Are you sure that you're fine?"_

"I have no idea why I sound unhappy," I say and roll my eyes even though I know she can't see it. And she doesn't really deserve it since she's right with her guess. "Maybe I'm tired. But everything is okay, really."

"_Okay," she finally says reluctantly. "__Maybe you work too much. But if anything is wrong – call me, okay? And promise me to take care of yourself."_

I stifle the sarcastic laugh that escapes my lips. Work would be the only thing that could keep me alive now. But I don't want to tell her that they fired me. "I will, Mom. I love you. Bye."

"_I love you, too. Bye."_

I sigh deeply as I hang up the phone and walk over to the couch to sit down.

Of course he doesn't have to work late and nothing is okay. I think he's cheating on me and the thought is killing me. It's not that I'm jealous – at least not anymore. Or maybe I never was. I think our love died a long time ago – if it was ever there. But it still hurts.

It hurts that there's someone out there who's worth more than I am. Who is worth risking a marriage, maybe a future together. A potential family.

And it hurts even more that it's not _one_ other woman. I might be able to live with the fact that he just met someone new. Someone he fell in love with. Though it would still hurt. But no – it's not just _one_ person. I'm sure he's cheating on me with several women.

The sound of his key in the door brings me out of my thoughts.

"Abby?" he yells my name. "Abby!"

He's drunk – again. And I'm scared. I never know what to expect when he's drunk. Sometimes it makes him nicer – sometimes it makes him angry. And tonight he sounds angry.

I don't have to say a thing as he's already stumbling into the living room, letting himself fall down on the couch next to me. I spot the lipstick on his shirt immediately. And – no matter how drunk he is – he notices my eyes on him.

"What?" he asks me harshly.

Tears are gathering in my eyes. I'm not sure whether this is the right moment or not – but I decide to finally ask him what's going on.

"Are you … are you cheating on me?" I ask carefully, trying not to upset him too much.

But it doesn't help. "What?" he yells. And he's not even planning to lie to me. "I don't know how this could be any of your business!"

I'm taken aback by his harsh words. I always wondered how he'd try to explain the lipstick on his clothes, how he'd explain that he's always coming home late. But I never thought that he wouldn't even try to deny it. But even though I have no idea what he'll do if I don't shut up now – I decide to face him tonight.

"We're married. I think it's my business when you're cheating on me. I want to know if you're cheating on me," I bring out, moving away from him carefully, bringing some more space between him and me. But again – it's not helping much.

"Don't you dare," he shouts as he gets up and grabs my wrist, twisting my arm, throwing me against the kitchen table.

I want to scream. I want to cry for help. I want to defend myself. But I know he's stronger than I am and that I have no chance.

"Please Richard, don't …"

"Shut up you whiny bitch," he yells twisting my arm even more, pushing me further against the table with his weight while I'm bend over it and he's standing behind me. "Now you're silent, huh?" he says triumphantly.

I am. I don't want to upset him even more. I'm used to him yelling. I'm used to him being angry. But I never saw him like that and I refused to sleep with him for a while now. He never minded it since he got what he wanted in all his affairs. But I'm scared now that he'll take from me what he wants – just to hurt me.

So I don't say anything – praying that he'll let go of me.

And it seems like I'm lucky. He doesn't say anything for a while. All I can hear is his still angry breathing. But finally he loosens his grip around my wrist after what felt like forever. He probably doesn't want to risk to get sued for abuse or even  … rape.

I hear him stumble through the apartment and sigh with relief when I hear him throw the door shut behind himself.

I slide down to my knees and hold my arm. I can tell from my experience that there's probably nothing broken. But it feels like my shoulder is dislocated and it hurts. But I know how to numb the pain.

I get up slowly and try to get to the bedroom as quickly as possible and lock the door behind myself. He probably won't come home any time soon. But I want to make sure that I'm safe until he's sober again.

I rest my weight against the door and my eyes fall onto my dresser immediately. The bottom drawer in particular. The thought of what's in there calms me down, even though I know that it's bad for me and that it won't change anything. 

My good hand wanders down to my stomach immediately. Now that there's nothing to stop me anymore I may as well take all the comfort I can get – even if it's just from a stupid bottle.

I wince from the pain when I walk over to the bottom drawer and search through my underwear for the almost forgotten bottle of Vodka. I knew I should have thrown it away a long time ago. I knew that I wouldn't be able to resist the temptation. But I kept it. Because I knew I'd need it sooner or later. And I was right.

I still didn't allow myself to cry when I crawl up in a corner and open the bottle slowly – knowing the release is only a sip away. And I wish myself far away, wish I was someone else when I feel the taste of salty tears mixed with Vodka on my lips.

***

"A wonderful good morning, Haleh!" I say to her as I enter the ER. "How are we today?"

She smiles at me. "Just great Carter. Just a bit busy since Randi left. And yourself?"

"Great! Can't you tell?" I ask her with a wink.

"Oh, I do. What's making you so exuberant this morning?"

"I don't know. I got up this morning and just felt great. Maybe something really good will happen to me today."

"I'm sure it will, Carter," she says, rolling her eyes at me playfully.

I know she must think I've gone completely crazy now. But I really feel happy today and nobody's bad mood can change that.

"So, what have we got?"

"Don't you want to change into your lab coat first?"

"I just want to be prepared."

"Talking of being prepared," she says reluctantly, the expression on her face suddenly changing. "Alison is waiting for you in the lounge."

"Oh." Maybe there is something that could ruin my mood today.

"I just thought you might want to know."

"Yeah, thank you. Did she say what she wants?" She knows I don't want her to come here.

"No. She just said she'd wait in the lounge."

"Okay, thank you Haleh."

"Any time," she calls after me as I turn around to enter the lounge.

Sometimes I feel bad for my thoughts. She's a nice girl. But we're just not on the same wavelength. Back then it felt right. She was cute and nice. But now I wonder how we ever got together. We have hardly anything in common. But somehow I don't have the guts to just end it. Sometimes it feels like we still have a chance. But these moments become more and more rare lately.

Her squeal brings me out of my thoughts as I open the door to the lounge.

"John!"

"Alison, hello," I answer politely as I join her. "What are you doing here?" I ask her, faking a smile as she throws her arms around my neck.

"Nothing really," she answers smiling as she pulls back from me. "There's no special reason why I'm here. Am I not allowed to visit my boyfriend?"

"You know I have to work here … "

"I know," she says, but I know she's ignoring my words. "But I wanted to say hello. You didn't call me for days."

"I know, I'm sorry. I was busy," I lie as I take her hands off my shoulders and walk towards my locker to change my clothes. "And right now I have to work, too. I'll call you during my break, okay?" I offer, hoping she'll leave.

"Okay," she says, her smile back on her face as she follows me to my locker and leans in to kiss my cheek. "Talk to you later."

"Yes, bye," I call after her as she leaves the lounge.

I jump slightly as the door opens again and I fear she might have come back.

But luckily it's just Haleh.

"Carter, dislocated shoulder in curtain three. Sometimes I really wonder why women let men do something like that to them," she says as she's waiting for me to get dressed.

"It was her boyfriend? Or her husband? Did she say that?" I ask her as I try to get my lab coat on to follow her right away.

She shakes her head. "No, she says she _fell_ … in the kitchen."

"Maybe that's really what happened."

"No Carter, believe me. She's not telling the truth. And she's scared."

"Sadly, there's nothing we can do if they don't want help," I say as we finally leave the lounge together and go to curtain three.

"We can try, Carter," she says before she gives me the chart and leaves.

I've seen many patients in the ER and a lot of them were victims of abuse. But I still feel my stomach twist when I push the curtain aside and see the woman sitting on the gurney.

Haleh was right, she looks scared and so fragile.


	2. Chapter

**Author's Notes**: Here's the next part. I hope you'll like it and won't be disappointed ... Thank you for the reviews!! : )

"Good morning," I say carefully as I come closer to her, trying not to startle her. I don't think she noticed yet that someone has joined her.

But it doesn't help. She jumps a little and looks at me with wide eyes.

"I'm sorry," I apologize. "I didn't mean to startle you. I'm Dr Carter, Miss um.," I begin as I search through the chart to find her name.

"Lockhart," she interrupts me. "Mrs Lockhart. Abigail. Abby," she informs me nervously.

I smile at her reassuringly.

"You're here because of your . arm?" I ask her, pointing at the arm she's holding.

She nods. "Yeah. It . it was an accident. I . I wanted to get a glass from the top drawer and got myself a chair to climb on to reach it. But then I lost my balance and fell off the chair . without the bowl," she adds to lighten up the atmosphere, trying to smile.

"The bowl?" I ask her, raising an eyebrow.

Her smile disappears. "Oh . did I say bowl? I meant glass. Without the glass. God . I'm not only clumsy I also have a bad memory," she laughs nervously. "My husband always tells me that I'll kill myself one day because . "

"Hey," I interrupt her and put my hand on her shoulder lightly. "Are you . are you sure that this is how it happened?" I ask her, trying to make her tell the truth. It is obvious that she's telling me lies and the only reason for this I can think of is that someone did this to her.

She shakes her head quickly and vehemently. "Of course this is how it happened," she tells me, looking down at the floor, her voice cracking slightly as she's speaking.

"If you need help . we can help you."

I can tell that she's trying to keep the tears in her eyes from falling. "The only help I need is for my arm," she tells me firmly. "Is anything broken?"

I sigh. I know she's lying. But I don't think she'd tell me if I pushed her now. I'll just let her come back. Maybe she'll open up then. "No, it's just dislocated. You'll get a sling and . "

"No, no sling please."

I raise my eyebrow. "But you need it for your shoulder to heal."

"I promise to keep it still. Just no sling, please," she pleads.

I think about it for a moment. She probably doesn't want her husband to know that she was at a hospital. I don't want to make it even worse for her when she gets home. And I can't say no anyway when I look into her eyes.

"Okay, but you have to sign something . "

"I know," she interrupts me. "I know how this works. I'm a nurse."

"Really? Where?" I ask her surprised.

"Well, I _was_ a nurse. At Northwestern. I . they . ," she stutters, probably trying to come up with another lie. But she decides to just skip that part instead of lying. "Well, and now I'm searching for a new position."

For some reason I'd really like to see this woman again. And maybe if she worked here I'd have the chance to get to know her and to help her.

"Really? How would you like to work in an ER?" I ask her with a wink. "One of our nurses just quit because she's having a baby. So . if you would be interested . after your arm is better . I'd see what I can do for you," I offer her with a smile.

For the first time I see a genuine smile on her face and it makes her look even more beautiful. "I'd be interested," she finally says.

"Great," I say with an even wider smile. "Do you have some time right now? We have a diner across the street and we could talk about some things. Like what you've done at Northwestern. It's nothing great. But what they have there is more of a coffee than the stuff they call coffee here."

She laughs slightly. "I know, the coffee at our hospital was the same. I guess it's like that in every hospital. But I'm used to it. So whatever they'll have there is fine for me."

"Great, let's go then," I say as I offer her my hand to help her stand up.

I'm not surprised about the wave of electricity that runs through my body as her skin and mine touch. I don't know what it is about her that makes me like her already. I'm trying to tell myself that she's just a patient, just like the many others I see during the day. But even though I really don't know what it is, I know she is more than that.

***

"Oh, it's nice here," I say as we enter the diner across from the hospital.

"Yeah. It's small but I like it," he says to me with a smile. "How about the booth over there?" he asks, pointing at a quiet booth in a corner.

"Yeah, why not," I agree as we walk over to it.

I have no idea why I agreed to this. I should see that I get home as soon as possible before Richard comes home and gets even angrier. But there is something about him . I can't quite place it . that makes me trust him. Though I can't tell him about Richard. I can't tell anyone about him. He'd be mad and maybe not only hurt _me_ in the end. And it's embarrassing to admit that you let your husband . Though he probably already knows. It was stupid to go to a hospital. It was stupid to risk anyone finding out. But the pain got worse during the night and I had to make sure that nothing is broken.

"Anything I can bring you?" the waitress interrupts my thoughts as we sit down in the booth.

He's looking at me like I should order first. "Oh, just a cup of coffee please."

"And you, sir?" she then asks.

"Just coffee, too please. Thank you."

"I'll be right back with your orders," she says before she disappears and leaves us alone.

"Just coffee Mrs . um . Lockhart? They have great pie, here."

"Abby. You can call me Abby, Dr Carter," I offer him.

"And you can call me . Carter," he answers with a boyish smile that makes me smile, too.

"Carter?" I ask and raise my eyebrows.

"Yeah," he says and laughs slightly. "My first name is John, but everyone calls me Carter."

"That's . interesting," is all I can think of to say. "Carter it is then. But I'm not hungry, thank you," I finally answer his question.

He looks at me - obviously confused.

"The pie you were talking about. You said it's good here. But I'm not hungry."

"Oh, right. Well, [but] you should definitely try it some time."

I nod as the waitress reaches our table with the coffees we've ordered.

There is a - surprisingly - comfortable silence between us before he begins to speak.

"So . what have you been doing at Northwestern as a nurse?"

"I was an OB nurse," I tell him with a smile. "I love kids."

He smiles back at me. "Do you and your husband have children?"

I have to swallow hard as he mentions this and my thoughts wander to the hardest decision I ever had to make only a few days ago. It brings tears to my eyes to think of what might have been. I hope he won't notice them.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes. "Did I say something wrong?"

I look at him and manage to compose myself more or less. "No. No, you didn't say anything wrong. We don't have any children."

"But I'd be interested in a job as an ER nurse," I say to change the subject.

I think he notices that it's something I don't want to talk about. "I'll see what I can do for you then," he says, smiling at me again. "I should know more within the next few days."

"That's great," I say, honestly hoping that I can find a new job at County. I can't stand sitting at home all day anymore.

"Right now I have to go, though. Sorry," he suddenly says as he checks his watch. "I have to call . um . someone. It's already 11 am. I didn't notice how quickly the time passed."

"11 am?[,]" I ask in shock as I can feel my stomach turn. Richard will be [at] home soon. "I'm sorry, but I have to go. I'll call you within the next few days. And thank you," I bring out before I stand up quickly to be home as soon as possible.

I don't even bother to wait for the bus. I just walk home. It's not far and I might make it in time if I really hurry now.

***

"Your purse!" I call after her. But she's already out of Doc Magoo's and disappeared around the corner.

I can't stop thinking about her as I make my way back to the hospital.

I still don't know what it is. But I want to know more about her.

I forget about that thought quickly, though as I meet Alison just as I come out of the door.

"John! Where have you been? Why didn't you call me?" she asks me in her high pitched voice. She sounds like a furious teenager.

"I was just about to call you, sorry. I forgot about the time . "

"What are you doing here anyway? I thought you have to work."

"I was here with a patient . "

"With a patient? You had dinner with a patient?" she asks me in disbelief.

"Yes . um . no. I wanted to help her to find a job here ... "

"_Her_? So it's a woman. Is she good looking?" she asks me, her hands on her hips. "Did you have fun with her?"

"Alison!" I say, raising my voice to make her stop. "Don't be silly. She came in as a patient. But she's a nurse and I wanted to help her to find a new job since she lost her position at Northwestern. No need to get jealous, okay?"

She's quiet now and looking guilty. But I feel guilty, too because I know she's not far from the truth with her words. I _did_ enjoy the little time I had with Abby. And I can't wait for the moment that I can see her again.


	3. Chapter

**Author's Notes**: I'm really sorry that it took me ages to update! But I was very busy lately and had trouble with my computer .. but now hopefully all is sorted out. ; )  
And here's the third and last chapter of this story. I hope you won't be disappointed .. but I didn't want to write more or less the same I did in "Hurt" .. so I hope you'll enjoy it anyway! Thank you for all the encouraging reviews!!   
And thank you Jo for beta reading! ::hugs::   
  
  
  
It's amazing how close we've come since she's been working here. We share every break together, go for walks along the river or just talk about this and that, especially about her family.   
I've never felt that close to someone before. And I miss her immediately when she's not here.   
  
"Have you seen Abby today?" I ask Susan as I meet her at the admit desk.   
She shakes her head. "No, I didn't see her yet. But yesterday she said she'd be on at nine. Maybe she missed the El or something. I'm sure she's fine," she adds with a smile.   
I nod. "Probably," I say absent-mindedly.   
  
But she doesn't know about her husband. Abby and I have become best friends since she's working here – but we didn't talk about her husband yet. All I know is that his name is Richard. But she seemed fine lately and I wanted to wait until she's ready to tell me. But now that she's late for work I begin to worry.   
  
"Can you cover for me, Susan?"   
"Sure."   
"Thank you," is all I say before I run out of the hospital and to her apartment.   
  
On my way to her I have the worst scenarios in my head.   
What if he hurt her again? What if he hurt her more than he ever hurt her before?   
  
And the bad feeling in my guts doesn't go away when I finally reach her apartment door.   
It's standing wide open and I can't hear anything. All I find inside is an eerie silence.   
  
"Abby?" I whisper carefully – in case Richard is still here – as I search for her in the apartment. "Abby. Where are you? It's me, John. Please tell me where you are."   
  
But I don't get an answer, which makes me even more worried.   
I sigh with relief when I finally hear something behind one door.   
  
"Abby?" I ask again, knocking at the door carefully. "Are you in there?"   
I open the door anyway when I get no answer.   
  
I feel a sting in my heart when I finally spot her. She's crouched in one corner of – what seems to be – their bedroom, her legs pulled up to her chest, her face buried in her hands, a full bottle of Vodka standing next to her.   
  
I feel anger and pain at the same time as I walk towards her slowly, trying not to startle her.   
"Abby?" I whisper, putting one hand on her knee. "What happened"?   
She jumps slightly. But she calms down as she sees that it's me.   
I can't say the same about me. I feel even more anger when I see her bruised face, one eye almost swollen shut.   
  
"Abby, tell me what happened. Did Richard do this to you?" I ask her, running my finger lightly over her bruised skin.   
Her eyes get wide when she hears his name. "Carter … I'm scared," she says, hardly above a whisper as I kneel down next to her.   
"Don't worry, he's not here," I try to reassure her. "I won't let him touch you again, okay?"   
She nods and I can see tears run down her face.   
"I'm here now," I say as I sit down next to her and pull her into my arms and begin to rub her back gently. "I won't let him hurt you again," I promise her as she's crying in my arms.   
  
***  
  
"I can't go with you to your apartment," I try to protest as we're driving in his jeep.   
"I won't leave you alone with him again."   
"But … I can't," I object again. Though honestly I'm glad that I'm not alone. That I have a friend like him. I feel secure with him. But I don't want to be a burden in his life. "What about Alison? I don't think she'll be happy to see me."   
  
"Don't worry about her," he tries to reassure me. "She'll understand."   
"I'm not sure."   
  
I don't think she will. And I know he thinks the same. She won't ever understand the bond between Carter and me. She's always jealous and gives me these looks when we're together. But I don't really want to argue with him. I'm glad that he offered for me to stay with him.   
  
"You'll see, she'll understand," he says as we reach his home and climb up the stairs to his apartment door. "Don't worry about it."   
  
But I can see in his face that he _is_ worried about her reaction as he opens the door.   
I can hear her squeal immediately.   
"John!"   
  
But she's quiet as soon as she sees me. "What's she doing here?" she asks, her arms crossed in front of her chest.   
"She's staying here for a while," he explains while he motions me into another room. "You can lie down on the bed if you want. I'll be right back," he tells me before he closes the door.   
  
I sit down on the bed and look around. It's his bedroom – apparently. It looks nice. But the walls are pretty thin. I can hear Alison yelling. It sounds like she gives him an ultimatum. Her or me. I feel bad. I don't want to be the reason for the end of his relationship.   
Then there is nothing until I hear someone slam a door shut.   
  
"Did she leave?" I ask him as he comes back to me.   
He nods.   
"I'm sorry. You should go after her and I should leave now," I say, standing up to get my stuff and go. "I don't want to be the reason why she's angry at you."   
"No," he says, putting his hand on my shoulder and making me sit down again. "It's not your fault. She never understood me and I'm glad that I had the guts to end it now."   
I want to protest but he interrupts me before I can say anything. "And now tell me what happened today, okay?"   
  
I look down, embarrassed, playing nervously with the rim of my shirt. I don't want anyone to know what happened. I'm too embarrassed. But when I look up into his eyes I know that I can trust him. That he won't judge me.   
"I'm so stupid and so embarrassed," I blurt out.   
"You're not," he says, rubbing my back. "_He_ is stupid and should be the one who is embarrassed for doing what he did. Nothing is your fault, okay?"   
  
"I know it's not," I say, sniffling slightly. "I've met enough women who were victims of their violent husband as a nurse at the hospital. And I told them all that it's not their fault. But … now that it's me I feel really stupid. I never understood why women let their men do that to them you know?"   
  
He nods, not saying anything, letting me speak.   
  
"But … he was always so nice, you know? When I met him he was really nice. I felt like I was everything to him. But after we got married … everything changed. He was moody and began drinking more and more. But he … he never hurt me in any physical way. He only hurt me with words … and he was only like that when he was drunk. That's when I began drinking, too. And I … I had an abortion."   
  
I sigh deeply and I feel him tighten his embrace around me, giving me the strength to go on while a tear trickles down my face slowly.   
"And he … he cheated on me. And the night I faced him … asked him what's going on … that was the first time that he … that he hurt me physically. And after that I was just scared. I was scared that he'd hurt me even more. And I was scared that other people would find out and only make it worse … that he'll hurt these people, too. And I just didn't know what to do," I tell him, finally breaking down, sobbing.   
  
I feel him pulling me into his arms, holding me tight and it makes me feel better immediately.   
"It's okay now, I'm here. Just let it all out. You're safe now, I won't let him near you again. It's over now."   
  
I hope he's right.   
But it feels good already just crying, and finally being able to tell someone about it. And I know he means it, he'll help me. And that makes me feel a lot better.   



End file.
